


my selves go with you,only i remain;

by lesbianmcqueen



Category: Prestuplenie i nakazanie | Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Genre: Angst, M/M, epilogue—while they're in court, unrequited?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianmcqueen/pseuds/lesbianmcqueen
Summary: Maybe Raskolnikov wouldn’t know what to do without him anymore.
Relationships: Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov/Dmitri Prokofich Razumikhin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	my selves go with you,only i remain;

In another lifetime, Raskolnikov opens the door onto the apartment he shares with Razumikhin and is greeted with a smile, a glass of cheap vodka, a bowl of warm food. There is much to talk about over dinner, but he will only remember the flush of Razumikhin’s cheeks when he smiles, the whiteness of his knuckles whenever he grasps the neck of the liquor bottle. After dinner they play cards, or work on a translation that Razumikhin says will have to be looked over again tomorrow when they are not nursing their third glass. Then they argue about the merits of translating while intoxicated, and sober up in the meantime, and clean their dishes, and turn into bed—perhaps the same bed; it’s a small apartment. They both like to read before falling asleep. Razumikhin always stops to to show Raskolnikov an interesting part, or laugh at a mistranslation, or sigh contentedly. Raskolnikov gets a little annoyed at the persistent interruption, but then again when Razumikhin is out at a party or staying late at work, he misses those chuckles and sighs so much he can’t read at all, so it’s better like this: getting in a few pages at a time while his ear is tuned in to Razumikhin’s idiosyncracies.

That’s the life I want, Raskolnikov realizes, as Razumikhin stands in front of the judge and continues his defense.

Well, not _defense_ , technically. Technically Razumikhin is just a character witness. But Raskolnikov gets the feeling that Razumikhin is doing more for him than any lawyer could.

“—being incongruous, more than anything,” Razumikhin is saying, “As Rodion Romanovich has been nothing but an outstanding friend to me and to countless others. When I say that I have yet to meet a man who exhibits the same kind of generosity and tenderness... Aside from the lovely Sonya Semyonovna, who will be speaking shortly, I am surely the most fortunate of those to cross his path. For Rodion Romanovich has always been there for me when I needed him most...”

It’s all bullshit, of course. Raskolnikov has no friends; not one sane person would ever use the word tender to describe him, and Sonya Semyonovna will only testify out of the goodness of her own heart—not any misguided notion about the goodness of Raskolnikov’s.

Razumikhin’s presentation is compelling nonetheless. He is charming, eloquent, and makes it sound as if his opinion on Raskolnikov's character is an immutable conclusion.

And, well, what Raskolnikov has learned these past twenty minutes is that Razumikhin _isn’t_ sane, and that in his own mind he _has_ come to an immutable conclusion. He believes, against all evidence, that Raskolnikov is good. Kind, even. Good and kind and yes, tender, and empathetic, and honest. There has always been a tickling thought at the back of Raskolnikov’s skull that Razumikhin is permanently making fun of him—that he keeps Raskolnikov around for laughs and nothing more. Even when Razumikhin offered to testify on his behalf, Raskolnikov convinced himself that it was all one big joke, and that sooner or later a letter would be dropped off with the warden informing him of Razumikhin’s withdrawal.

But no letter ever came. And now, hearing him talk, the very last vestiges of Raskolnikov’s distrust fall away. He thinks back to all those times Razumikhin wrapped an arm around him, or handfed him, or lay a coat over him as he fell asleep. He _cares_ for Raskolnikov—deeply, sincerely—enough to forgive the unforgivable, enough to leave a party at his side.

And that is what prompts this little dream: This gentle life where they are happy in each other’s company. Because Raskolnikov wants to be the person Razumikhin thinks he is. He wants to be there when Razumikhin needs him most. And maybe... Well, maybe it’s nice, having Razumikhin be there for him too. Maybe Raskolnikov wouldn’t know what to do without him anymore.

Raskolnikov wishes he could ask, wishes he could run up to Razumikhin and grab him by the lapels of his coat and beg to be loved—to be able to love—like this forever. But it’s a fitting punishment, that even if he could swallow his pride and confess these newfound feelings to Razumikhin, even if he could afford that apartment and that couch and those books, even if Razumikhin were to embrace him instead of laughing in his face, it wouldn’t matter. There is nothing to distract from acts as reprehensible as Raskolnikov's, nothing to hide behind. Not Sonya’s sorrow, nor Dunya’s rage. Not even Razumikhin's inexplicable and unrelenting faith.

No, Raskolnikov is going to die in the mines of Siberia, killed in a rockslide, or overcome with pneumonia. He resigned himself to this fate weeks ago, just as he was walking up the steps to the police station. The thought hasn’t hurt until now. In fact, it probably wouldn’t have hurt at all, if Razumikhin didn’t keep glancing at him and smiling. If Razumikhin were not now turning to the judge and saying, “He’s a good man, I know it in my heart, more confidently than I know anything.”

I’m not the person you think I am, Raskolnikov wants to scream.

And Razumikhin smiles at him again, his cheeks flushed, and he thinks: But I could have been. I could have been. With time, with you, I could have been.

**Author's Note:**

> another long-awaited c&p oneshot .... sorry i did not do any research into 1860s russian judicial system whatsoever. kudos & comments always appreciated


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